


To Our Future

by keeperofthefour



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Jumin as a Dad is my favorite imagine, Slice of Life, no smut here folks just wholesome goodness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:20:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26855113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keeperofthefour/pseuds/keeperofthefour
Summary: Ten years in, Jumin and his wife have found a certain...married, domestic bliss.
Relationships: Han Jumin/Main Character
Comments: 4
Kudos: 56





	To Our Future

"Darling, you can't lie in bed  _ all _ day," Jumin whispered, warm and soft into the shell of her ear. Broad strokes of his hand along her back soothed her, and she stretched out along the bed, pointing her toes, yawning with her face still pressed into the pillow. Upon exhale, she turned her head to face him with a languid smile.

"Who says?" she countered, blinking slowly to allow her eyes to focus on his face through the haze of sleep. 

He picked individual locks of hair away from her face, then leaned to kiss each newly uncovered part of her skin, silken lips lingering, stubble on his chin scratching in a familiar, comforting way. She smiled and laughed softly, pulling him close so she could seal her mouth over his in a lazy good-morning kiss.

Just as Jumin shifted his weight over top of her, there came a knock at their bedroom door, accompanied by a heated argument between a certain set of siblings.

“Shhhh! Daddy said Mommy wanted to sleep in today, you dummy!” 

“But I need her to help me! She’s the only one who knows how to tie my shoes the right way.”

“Why don’t you let Daddy do it? He’s smarter, anyway.”

She and Jumin looked at each other and burst into laughter. The voices on the other side of the door fell into loud hisses, now even more angry with each other that they had been discovered.

“You’re too loud! You woke her up!” 

“Nuh-uh.  _ You  _ are!”

“Gentlemen!” Jumin called, and suddenly it was silent. He rose from the bed and tied his silk robe, then moved to open the door; two black-haired boys stood on the other side, one a head taller than the other. The shorter one’s shoelaces were untied, and the taller boy appeared as if he’d dressed himself in the dark. “Is there something I can help you with?”

Their argument ensued, and Jumin raised a hand, closing his eyes with a shake of his head. “I will not hear it unless you can give me one good reason why you’ve come to my bedroom door when I specifically told you that your mother would like some peace and quiet.” He turned to the taller boy. “You first.”

“Dad, I was just trying to stop him. I wanted to do what you said!”

Jumin nodded. “Fair enough. Your efforts are appreciated.” He turned to the younger of the two and crossed his arms over his chest. “Well? What do you have to say for yourself?”

The boy looked down at his shoes, bottom lip protruding. “I just wanted Mommy to tie my shoes so I can go outside and ride my bike.”

Jumin tilted his head, raising a brow. “You do realize what today is, right?” When his son shook his head, he turned to face his wife and winked as she slid out of bed, moving to stand beside her husband and wrap an arm around his waist and kiss the top of her head. “Don’t tell me you boys have forgotten.”

They began clamoring again, the oldest running headlong through the hallway, shouting something about his mother’s gift. The younger stayed put, big brown eyes fixed on his mother’s face. “Mom, I know it’s your birthday, but can you please tie my shoes so I can go outside?”

She bent to oblige, but not before giving his mop of hair a hearty ruffle. “Happy birthday to me, huh?” she chuckled.

He beamed at her and threw his arms around her neck, then applied a soft kiss to her cheek. “Happy birthday, mom. I love you! Thanks for tying my shoes!” And he was off; down the hall, around the corner, and out the door into the late Sunday morning sunshine.

Jumin and his wife stood there in the doorway for a moment, smiling fondly at their sons. She sighed wistfully and stepped out into the hall. “How did we get so lucky, Jumin?” she said with a smile, reaching for his hand. 

He obliged, enveloping her hand in his, warm and firm as they walked to the kitchen together. “I ask myself the same thing each morning. Those boys are my greatest accomplishment...next to you, of course.” 

  
  
  


*******************************************************

Ten years later, and he still made her blush; still showered her in compliments day in and day out. They were a power couple in every sense of the word– Jumin rose to chairman of C&R International, and she became the official party coordinator for the RFA. Their organization held several fundraiser parties each year, each with a different theme, a new, creative venue, and a menu put together by the top chefs in the area. Two years after their wedding (rumor has it that it was the most expensive affair in the history of C&R) they welcomed their first child– a chubby, smiling baby boy who would become their pride and joy. Three years after that, their second son was born, and they moved away from their penthouse in the city. She and Jumin spent months pouring over blueprints and floor plans, finally deciding on a custom built home just outside the city, in an affluent neighborhood with lots of room to raise their boys. Jumin liked to pretend that he had some say in the matter, but anyone who was close to them knew the truth– it was her wishes that he complied to, her desire that he succumbed to. That’s not to say that they never argued, though. They were also a very  _ real  _ couple. Small disagreements peppered throughout their history– some petty, some more significant– all of them broke Jumin’s heart and hers. One rule they abided by, always: they never went to bed angry. No matter the issue, it was always resolved before they lay to rest their heads, so that they could wake up peacefully, greeting one another with a smile and a gentle touch. She wasn’t exactly a morning person– never had been– so when Jumin rose for an early day at the office, she might have grunted and rolled away, but he never left the house without showing her affection in some way.

An assistant party coordinator was hired to help Mrs. Han during the early years of child rearing, and she took a step back to focus on her family– something that she’d always held in high regard. At her gentle suggestion, Jumin spent less time at the office and more time at home with his wife and children, afraid that he would miss out on important milestones if he were busy signing paperwork or conducting meetings.

Family life was messy. Fulfilling. Raw and real and oh so important to Jumin. Gone were the honeymoon days of sleeping in on weekends (well...sleeping in general), romantic candlelight dinners, luxurious seaside vacations, and nights filled with wine and dancing. Sure, they still managed to get away together from time to time, but their main focus became their family. Their boys. They felt it was important to be as hands-on as possible with the children, especially Jumin– whose own childhood was filled with trauma and unrest. Any potential babysitters for date nights or special events were screened extensively before even being allowed to set foot inside their home.

Though inexperienced, Jumin wanted to help in any way he was able. He read books, consulted online sources, and talked with employees at his office who had children. He took great pride in diaper changes, feeding, rocking, even singing to his sons when they were small. Many nights, his wife would wake to find him standing over the crib, tiny fingers curled around his index finger while he smiled and cooed at his child. 

“I hope you know just how much I love you,” he would croon. She would give him a moment or two before stepping into the room, coaxing him back to bed. 

“Let him sleep, Jumin. You need rest, too.”

“But he’s smiling at me. Look.” And she would peek into the crib to find their son– with a toothless grin, complete with dimples and starry eyes– beamed back at his father. “How can I turn away from  _ this?” _

Luxury vacations became trips to the pumpkin patch, Jumin dressed in pants that weren’t part of a tailored suit, perhaps donning a sweater or even a scarf and a casual coat. HIs mobile photography skills improve somewhat, thanks to Jihyun, and he has a digital photo album full of his wife and boys in various poses, both candid and staged. He is  _ every bit  _ the proud father and husband.

Middle age is kind to Jumin Han. There might be a few subtle lines around his eyes, perhaps a gray hair or two has made it to his head, but he stays fit and active, knowing that to care for himself is to care for others. 

Their relationship is one built on years of trust, of mutual understanding and companionship. She is truly his first and last love, and he has vowed to protect her from any harm that may come her way. 

*********************************************************

He guided her to the living room sofa and rested his hands on her shoulders, imploring her to sit. She regarded him with a curious smile as he sat down beside her, withdrawing a small, velvet-covered box from the pocket of his robe. 

“Jumin, I– “ she shook her head, and he laid a finger against her lips.

“I won’t take no for an answer.” He held out the box to her. “Please. Open it.”

Inside was a ring of exquisite quality, adorned with  _ four  _ diamonds. “One for each of us,” he explained, tears clouding his vision as he slipped it on her finger, then lifted her hand to his lips. “Happy birthday, darling. I hope you know how much you mean to me. To  _ us.” _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
